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~ Chapter Nineteen ~

The Dalton watchguard was lounging.

It was consistent of ten wolves, all posted on top of the make-shift wall made out of rubble they'd found around Akra or burgled from naive passer-byers. It was more than thrice a regular wolf's height, stretching long enough to cut off a little less than half of Akra from the other inhabitants. It looked just about ready to fall. But the Daltons had doused the trash in water which had then become ice; it might as well have been glue between the different components.

But it didn't need to be sturdy, people rarely attacked the Dalton hideout — the ones that did never made it past the spears sticking out of the rubble here and there, sprinkled randomly.

The guards knew they had the upper hand, and they sure acted like it.

One was lazily scratching his chin like an old dog, balancing on top a metal platform scavanged from a tumbled building. Ten feet away sat the next one, more alert but watching something within the walls instead than the rest of Akra.

And the lineup continued.

Nobody saw the two bodies huddled behind the building nearest the wall, the two pair of eyes studying the soldiers.

"That looks like a dump," Liz said with blatant mistrust.

Chris immediately pulled her away from the edge of the wall, placed a finger to his lips. "Whisper, you idiot! You could've ruined everything — that dump rules half of the city. It has for years. And very few know what's going on inside."

"You said they were some kind of make-shift pack right?"

"Precisely. But you'll learn after spending some time in this world that going against nature," he reached into the deep pockets of his coat, felt around, "is often not a good idea. Drives wolves mad."

"If they're so dangerous and nobody gets in then how are we supposed to? I mean, we're both sort of runts compared to the other werewolves."

He scowled. "Do not align yourself with me. You are a human. Besides, the other wolves don't have what we have."

Liz's moved in as he brought out a small cylindrical container out of his pocket. Her hands itched to touch it and, surprisingly, he let her.

"That's a grenade, our upper hand," he said as she took it out of his hand. "The wolves have no idea how modern weapons work and that will be our ticket to get to my brother before he's dead. But he might already be. Time definitely isn't on our side."

Liz looked up from the grenade at his words, felt bitter terror in her gut.

Chris didn't notice as he turned away, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now, I advise we come up with a plan. We want to catch them off-guard and not just run in completely..."

He turned around.

She was gone.

"—unprepared."

"HEY, ASSHOLES!"

Chris shot around the corner just in time to see Liz hold the now ticking grenade over her head. All the guards watched her, gathered in the front of the wall. A choir of growls filled the air, each vibration potent against Chris's sensitive hairs.

Although that didn't bring his mind off of his most pressing concern; for some reason Liz wasn't throwing the grenade.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE TOUGH SHIT, HUH!" she continued, oblivious to Chris racing towards her back. "WELL, CHECK THIS--"

He flew through the air and managed to hook his arm around Liz's neck, bringing her down with him. Before they'd even hit the ground he had gotten a hold of the grenade and, with all the power he could muster, hurdled it at the wall.

As it hit the trash a metallic clang got interrupted by an explosion so bright Chris had to shield his eyes.

"Woah," Liz murmured as the ringing settled. "That was..."

"Stupid? Yes, yes it was. I told you—"

"That was so cool!" Liz hopped off the ground and shook her limbs free of jitter. She had a wild spark in her gaze. "Wasn't that amazing? Didn't that just feel relieving?"

"A little," Chris confessed but then became alert as screaming came from within the compound. He glared at her. "Now what? There are about a hundred wolves coming at us, what do you expect us to do?"

Liz realized somewhere far in the back in her mind that she should be scared. But she wasn't. The thought of Red counting on her made a strange bloodthirst travel through her body, and she knew she should fear that too.

She brought her rifled arm up, felt the mechanics settle back after the hit they'd taken from the aftershock of the explosion.

"Now..." she said while bringing one foot back, intending to run right into the smoke, "we have an opening."

"You don't get it. That's not going to work—"

"Hey, Chris."

"Yes?"

The wind whipped her hair onto her face and the dust made his eyes water, yet he still noticed her gaze. It was thoughtless. Provoked. For the first time since they'd met Chris caught himself thinking that she might fit well into the world of the wolves.

"I need to know, can I count on you?"

Perhaps even better than he ever had.

"Yes."

Short chapter but at least kinda filling. What do you guys think of Chris? I wanna know exactly. Since I'm writing his character I'm biased (duh) but it'd help to know what you think of him because I wanna know how I'm gonna make the story progress.

Does he give you a bad vibe, a good one? You think he's a cool character or just in the way? I'm excited to hear your thoughts!
Muah!

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